The Road To Insanity
by fantasynote
Summary: **Hey guys, thanks for all the support but I've stopped updating this story here*** Check it out on Wattpad instead where I add a new chapter every Friday! Link: /story/212081043-the-story-of-a-mad-girl-annie-cresta-x-finnick
1. Chapter 1: Tradition

Chapter 1: Tradition

(Annie's POV)

"Seashell!"

"Come on its time!"

"Annie, you need to wake up!"

With the feeling of a slight nudge, my eyes flicker open to see my dad sitting on my bedside with his hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, seashell it's time to wake up. We don't want to miss it!"

Yawning, I stretch my legs and sit up to look at my dad and while rubbing my sleepy eyes raspily reply, "I'm almost 18, I think I'm getting too old for nicknames don't you?"

Grinning from my remark, he jokes, "not until your old and wrinkly like me" and leans over and to place a kiss on my freckled nose.

Laughing I ask, "How long do I have?"

With my question, he turns to look out my window. The sky outside is clear but still stained black by the night. His brows furrow as he responds, "I'd say about 10 minutes, I've already made the tea so just put on something quick and meet me out there okay?"

I nod. Satisfied with my response, he slides off my bed and leaves my room, closing my bedroom door behind him. I grab my covers and throw them off me as I scoot off of the bed and walk over to my mirror. With my sea blue eyes staring back at me, I reach over to a bail of water on the table beside my mirror and cleanse my face. I then turn my attention to my hair, reaching the end of my long copper braid to untie it, letting my shiny ginger locks loose. After giving my hair a quick brush, I turn to my closet and pick out the only dress I have. I take off my nightgown and pull on the short cream strapless dress. Zipping the back I turn back to my mirror for a final approval. This was my mom's wedding dress. My dad gave it to me after she died to help me feel closer to her. I gaze over my reflection, starting with the cinched white dress I work my way up, glancing over my protruding collarbones. I quickly brush my hair forward to cover them. Four was never a poor district like 12 but still, food was scarce and it was starting to show. Finally deciding I looked okay, I left my room and quickly rushed through the house and out the front door where my dad was waiting patiently with two flasks.

Hearing the front door open, he turned and smiled at my outfit.

"No shoes?" He laughed.

"I want to feel the sand today" I reply as I look out toward the coastline. Today is the last day of our tradition. Every year on this day, my father and I watch the sunrise. The memories of previous years begin to flood my mind making me smile and look back towards my father. I see his eyes lower to examine my dress and his smile weakens.

"She will be watching over you today" he whispers as if to hide the falter in his voice. It's only been seven years since my mother passed away but we still think about her often. I inherited most of my physical traits from my mother so I guess I must remind him of her.

"I know, that's why I wear it" I reply confidently. My dad nods and we take off towards the beach. After a few minutes, we reach the beach and I can feel the cold sand caressing my bare feet. I can smell the salt from the ocean and despite the cold morning air, I feel warm again. My mother always loved the ocean. She would take me down to the beach all the time. We would free drive and collect shells so she could make jewelry to sell with the fishing nets my dad made. I learned how to work with knives to cut and tie knots for the nets and also how to hold my breath for minutes at a time to collect the shells. Cutting my memory short, my dad asks, "How about here?"

I nod as he hands me a flask and we sit down on the sand. I open my flask and the aroma of warm vanilla tea fills my nose and the steam caresses my frostbitten cheeks. We sat there in silence for a few minutes sipping our tea and enjoying the sound of crashing waves. I begin drawing circles in the sand to pass the time until I feel my dad nudge my shoulder.

"Look Ann! Here it comes" he says excitedly as he points towards the horizon.

I look up and see the sky begin to lighten. The dark blue haze giving way to the yellowish-orange radiance of the sunrise. We look upon the rising sun in awe and I close my eyes and feel its rays warming me. For a moment I feel safe, protected by the sun's warmth. But like the tide, that feeling quickly recedes and I'm left thinking about today. Reaping day.


	2. Chapter 2: Reaping Day

I glance over at my father and study his features. It saddens me to see how his once strong features are ridden with wrinkles. I think the stress of my potential participation in the games has put a serious toll on his body over the years. I'm glad this is my last reaping. Once this is over we can finally relax and just hope one of our tributes chosen will be victorious. It had been five years since district four had a victor and food was growing scarce. As I finish my thoughts, my father catches my gaze,

"Time to go?" he asks solemnly. I turn to look out at the sunrise above the ocean, now in full radiance.

"Time to go," I reply as we stand up and walk back home with our empty flasks. Once we are back, we sit down to a proper breakfast of capitol rationed rice and hand caught fish (fairly typical for families in district 4). After I finish eating my dad clears our plates as I rush to put on my shoes. I pick the nicest ones I have, my worn-down black heels, and slip them on. Now that we are ready, we make our way out of the house towards the district courtyard where the annual reapings take place. As we approach the tribute registration table, I turn to hug my father goodbye.

"Good luck seashell" he kisses my forehead and makes his way towards the adult standing area. After I see him reach his group, I turn and make my way towards the registration line. Once it's my turn, I get my finger pricked and walk over to my age group for the lineup.

As I walk through the crowds looking for my age group, I see him sitting up on the stage among the other victors of District 4. His curly bronze hair shimmering in the light and sea-green eyes looking down at the crowd. That's him. That's Finnick Odair. He won his games a few years ago, I think he was 14, 15... I'm not sure. I try not to watch the games, but I saw enough to know he won his games by trapping people with some fishing net and stabbing them with his trident. I remember seeing the deadly look in his eyes as he plunged his trident into his fellow tributes. I decide that I don't like that image and shake it from my mind. Continuing my search I find my age group, and stand amongst a group of 17-year-old girls. As I wait, I look down at my freshly pricked finger and my face flushes at the sight of my blood.

I'm glad this is my last reaping, I think to myself. I'm not a victor. I'm no Finnick Odair.

I notice the crowd is especially quiet this year. There had been some whispers about the arena and how it will be one of the most dangerous games yet. Rumors of an icy arena with no food or freshwater coupled with newly engineered mutts guarantee that there will be no volunteers this year.

After a long uncomfortable silence, our capital representative and reaper Novena Petrie steps on the stage. Her elaborately designed golden heels clicking is the only sound ringing throughout the yard. Her heels are absurdly paired with a bright yellow feather dress that bounces with her stride. Her outfit is bizarre. Completing the look, she has her big yellow hair styled and curled, drawing attention to her caked pale skin and golden eyelids. Once she reaches the mic, she smooths the stray feathers on her dress, clears her throat and looks up at the crowd. Her pale-faced makeup cracks as her gold-painted lips creep into a smile. Scanning the crowd through her four-inch feather lashes, she begins...

"Hello all... and welcome to the reaping of the 70th Annual Hunger Games! As always, the capitol has prepared a reminder of why we uphold this wonderful tradition."

That word makes me cringe. Wonderful...as if.

Then the mandatory hunger games screening begins, I've seen this film before so I stare down at my shoes, counting the circles I carve in the sand with the point of my heel to calm my nerves.

After the end credits are over I look up to see her begin to speak again, "Wow! Wasn't that just wonderful!" I roll my eyes upon hearing that word again. After letting out a sigh of admiration she continues, "Now that everybody is feeling patriotic, let's get started with the ladies this year, shall we?"

Walking over to the female tribute pool, she reaches her hand into the big glass bowl, swirling her long-nailed, boney finger around the white envelopes. I can hear the crowd hold in their breath as her pale hands grasp one of the envelopes. A deadly silence falls over the crowd as she pulls it out of the clear bowl and reads it aloud.

"Annie Cresta"


	3. Chapter 3: Foreign Sounds

"Annie Cresta darling don't be shy!" Novena beckons as she scans the crowd for the horrified face of her female tribute. I feel my heart sink. My name sounds foreign, distant.

It's not mine, It can't be.

My feet are frozen I can't move, I can't breathe, I don't even think my heart is beating anymore. She repeats my name one more time, this time looking directly at me.

"There you are miss Annie, come on up now," she says as she beckons me to come forward. I must have looked pretty terrified to give away my identity by looks alone. Taking a step forward, I glance around me to see the girls in my age group staring at me all sharing the same face; Pity. My hesitant steps trigger the peacekeepers to come and latch themselves onto my arms; grabbing me and dragging me forward towards the stage. They guide me all the way to the stairs only letting go to have me climb the stairs alone. I hear Novena's voice echo as I near the top, "come on dear, we don't have all day now!"

I feel my knees buckle as I try to climb the stairs and I'm glad I do not fall. Once I'm fully on the stage I glance over to the victors sitting behind Novena. I see Finnick and next to him, I see a very short elderly lady, both with their eyes fixed on me. For a brief moment, I locked eyes with Finnick who looks almost sad, his once confident smile replaced with pursed lips and a frown.

Great. Even he knows I'm dead.

Ashamed, I tear my eyes away from his disappointed gaze. Having already crossed the stage, I stand next to Novena. She wraps her cold fingers around my bare shoulder and I think I flinched because she chuckled and slid her hand down to my upper arm eliciting a sickly chill from my already trembling body. Squeezing my arm she looks at me and says, "why what a wonderful tribute we have this year you must be very proud!"

I let my eyes scan the crowd as I nodded slowly, remaining silent. She takes this as a cue to draw for the boys. She releases her cold grip on me and walks over to the other bowl to pick another envelope. Then, envelope in hand, she calls out his name.

"Thomas Keller!" A few seconds later I see a tall, but shockingly thin, curly brown-haired boy guided up to the stage just like I had been a few moments ago. I can tell he's shaking because of his knees wobbling as he walks up the stairs to greet me and at the stage. Novena glances at him and repeats, "what wonderful tributes we have this year. May the odds be ever in your favor! You can shake hands now darlings" she says as she inches us closer. I look at him and I can see my own fear reflected in his wide hazel eyes. I reach out and we shake hands. With that, Novena ushers her parting words "Congratulations to our lucky tributes and happy Hunger Games everyone!" and she begins to walk off the stage.

Following her cue, the peacekeepers latch on to me again and rush us off the stage and into the visitation building. Before I know it I'm sitting on a cold black leather couch waiting for my father to come in and say goodbye. My leg is shaking with anxiety and I begin to replay last year's games in my head. The careers turning on the district 4 tributes striking them down mercilessly.

I can't believe I got chosen. Why is dad taking so long? How is this possible mom?

I wish she could respond. She would know what to do. Suddenly I hear the door crack open. My father rushes into the room.

"Annie! My girl! I'm so sorry!" His voice was worried, too worried for a playful nickname I guess. I've never heard it this shaky before either. My poor father. He must be feeling so lost having already lost my mother and now me. I can't stand up to greet him, my legs are too weak. Sensing this, he closing the distance between us and kneels in front of me, placing his hand on mine.

"I won't lose you too" he whispers sadly looking down at our hands.

"I can't, I'm not a victor..." I begin.

He cut me off, "Your strong Annie. Stronger than you think. You can do it. You can hide..."

"Dad..." I plead.

"You can use a knife, pretty good at throwing them too! To cut the nets and release the trap! Get him to help you, uhh the Finnick guy, get him to teach you how to trap the tributes like he did!"

"Dad...please" I whimper, pleading again for him to stop. My eyes swelling with the threat of tears.

"And you can swim...I heard this year they will have a da..."

I snap. "DAD! Please stop. Okay? Please. I'm not going to win. I'm sorry." Hot tears begin to roll down my face.

Letting go of my hand, he leans back and sighs. I see a tear roll down his tired face. This breaks me and I begin to sob. There's something about seeing my dad, the strongest man I know, cry that just crushes everything inside me. "Please Ann...You can't leave me alone. Please at least promise me you will try to come home." He begs clenching his fists on his knees.

I see his face when he looks back up at me. He looks so broken. A man on the verge of losing everything.

"I promise" I lie. He smiles weakly back at me and leans over to pull me into one last hug before the peacekeepers barge in and escort him out. The door shuts coldly behind them and I am left alone in silence.


	4. Chapter 4: Tough Decisions

Now that visitations are over, the peacekeepers escort me towards a door of what I can only assume is the bullet train to the Capitol. One we arrive, they let go of me and watch me step inside, slamming the door behind me. Looking around I feel so out of place. The train is so elegant with velvet carpets and gold platters filled with expensive pastries and fruits. I also see a seating area with two double seat black leather couches similar to the one I sat on during visitation. One is propped up horizontally against the back of the train with a small end table of glass-like candies to the left with the other black leather couch stretched vertically to the right. In the center of these couches is a black monitor. I decide that a view of the monitor will probably be important once I meet my mentors, so I sit on the left cushion of horizontally placed leather couch distancing myself from the unsettling perfect bowl of candy. I sit down for a few moments silence still taking in the sights of the train as I hear the door open. The peacekeepers shove Thomas in the room and slam the door. Scanning the room he catches my stare and breaks the silence,

Clearing his throat he mumbles "Fancy stuff huh?" glancing at the display and back towards me.

"Yeah, fancy" I reply awkwardly.

Chuckling at my awkwardness he walks towards the dessert display and hovering over it he looks up at me, "Have you gone in yet? They wouldn't try to kill us before the games would they? It would be too wasteful" he questions with a smile.

Smiling back I shrug, "Never can be too careful." We both looked at each other for a second after my remark and simultaneously break out into laughter. Our merriment is soon cut short when we hear the car door open once more and see Finnick and the elderly lady entering the train.

"Hellloooo Lucky Tributes" Finnick greets crossing the room to sit on the couch adjacent from me.

"Why all the frowny faces?" He laughs as he glances at me. He is wearing a purposefully unbuttoned white blouse tucked into way too tight black pants and dress shoes. Despite his confidence, he seems to move uncomfortably as if he didn't pick the outfit himself. But then again, judging by how much of his chest is showing, I begin to think otherwise edging me to retort "Oh trust me I'm smiling on the inside."

This remark provokes a playful smirk from Finnick "I'm sure you are" he adds with a wink before turning to Thomas, "and what about you? Trying for a last-minute bulk up?" He holds his smirk as he watches Thomas chomping down on the displayed sweets. Thomas, however, is not thrilled with this comment and just grunts as he shoves more pastries in his mouth.

"Well..." Finnick begins as he looks back at me. "I guess I better introduce myself. I'm Finnick Odair, victor of the 65th Annual Hunger games." He turns to look at the old lady who is still glancing around seemingly deciding where she should sit. "And this is Mags, she is also a victor and will be mentoring you guys as well." Mags looks up and smiles at Thomas and me, which makes Finnick clarify, "Oh and by the way, Mags here is mute due to an injury during her games, but don't worry she doesn't need words to let you know what's on her mind." Mags shoots Finnick a quick smile for his comment and then decides to join me on my couch. As she sits to the right of me she reaches over and picks a hard candy from the bowl next to her and offers it to me.

"No thanks," I say politely. She nods and then promptly gets to work unwrapping the candy. I watch her for a moment and realize just how small she is. I'm not very tall (maybe 5'6 on a good day) but Mags is probably not even 5'. Then suddenly, for the first time today, a confident thought passes through my mind.

If she can win, so can I.

Breaking the silence, Finnick continues, "Okay great, now that we are all friends, let's talk strategy." Standing up, he walks over to the monitor on the wall and turns it on showing the reaping video of the District 1 tributes smiling and waving at the camera. Turning back to face us, Finnick begins describing each of the tributes by their district. I take mental notes of what Finnick says about each of the tributes.

District 1: Titus (the male tribute, 18yrs, very tall and brawny with light brown hair pulled into a ponytail and blue eyes) good at hand to hand combat like any career but especially dangerous with an ax. Conclusion: Very Lethal but most likely as smart as a potato.

Raven (the female tribute, 17yrs, a stark difference from her male counterpart, she is wearing her brown hair in a side braid showcasing her relatively short and thin frame) Specialty: she is good with a bow but nothing physical. Conclusion: One of the worst female volunteers from District 1, definitely Not Lethal and an alliance is most likely not worth the effort.

District 2: Oliver (the male tribute, 18yrs, similar build to Titus but with short dirty blonde hair) Specialty: climbing and very skilled with a spear. Conclusion: Lethal but Possible Ally

Shayra (the female tribute, 18yrs, also relatively tall and muscular, pixie cut blonde hair and dark brown eyes that seem almost sinister) also good at close range combat but especially dangerous with dual swords. Conclusion: Very Lethal and intelligent. Then Finnick adds possibly psychotic.

District 3...

Finnick is cut short when Thomas elicits a very obvious yawn of boredom. This action does not sit well with Finnick as he crosses his arms over his chest and asks "Oh I'm sorry, am I boring you with this potentially life-saving information?"

Thomas pops another pastry in his mouth and explains, "I have no intention of joining the career pack, so sorry if I'm not that interested in learning about them."

Finnick raises an eyebrow in surprise, "okay, what's your angle then?" He questions with a very obvious tone of criticism.

Thomas swallows his food and thinks in silence for a moment. Then he looks up at me and continues, "I want to be on a team with Annie and only her, District partners are the only ones you can trust in the arena". Finnick glares at him and then directs his gaze towards me and his face turns to concern. "Is that something you would like to do?" He asks me. His gaze is intense and his sea-blue eyes are piercing but also soft. I don't think I've ever been this close to him before. I've heard rumors about him and I've seen him from afar upon on the reaping stage with the other victors, but having him here in front of me is surreal. I can see why he has so many capitol lovers, he is beautiful. Catching my thoughts before they get out of hand, I look down and away from his face so that I can think clearly about my next move.

"I think I'm better off with the careers since I don't have much combat experience to protect myself," I say with a hint of uncertainty. I mean seriously, I was just reaped like an hour ago how can he expect me to have a survival plan already?

"Fine then I'll be alone" Thomas retorts almost hurt. He grabs a few more pastries and asks Mags if she can show him to his room. Mags nods and they walk out of the main car together leaving Finnick and I alone in silence.


	5. Chapter 5: Testing The Waters

After Thomas and Mags left, I begin to debate what's worse. Asking Finnick so show me to my room...or continuing to sit in this uncomfortable silence. As if guessing my inner turmoil Finnick turns to me and asks, "Would you like me to show you to your room? It's okay been a long day and I'm sure you're tired."

Eager to leave this uncomfortable atmosphere I nod. Taking my cue, he stands up and walks toward me. "Okay it's right down this hall here, two cars down, first door to your left," he says as he looks at me with his sea-blue eyes. Reaching out his arm, he gestures for me to walk forward.

"After you" he adds smiling. Careful not to stare too long at him, I begin to walk. As we approach the door of my room, I turn around to face him with my head down.

"I have a question for you..." I ask slowly keeping my eyes planted on my shoes. "If you were in my place, would you join the careers or go off with Thomas?" After I finish my question, I look up to meet his eyes. He is staring down at me with his forehead scrunched in concentration.

After some time he begins, "I would go with the careers, you were right when you said they were your best bet since you don't have much combat skill. Plus, despite being from the same district Thomas is still your enemy. At least with a career pack, there will be more than just one vote when deciding to kill you or not."

"Won't I have to leave them in the end anyway?" I ask confused.

"Yeah but let's cross that bridge when you get there. My main concern is getting you through the bloodbath. That's where the most tributes die, but if you're with a career pack, you have a good chance of making it out alive" he answers as he crosses his arms and leaning against my door frame. I can't help but stare at his arms. They are so muscular, so chiseled, but so deadly. Then I see it, those arms throwing a trident through the chest of a fellow tribute in his games all those years ago. Beginning to realize how long I was staring, I quickly looked up to see if he had noticed. The stupid smirk on his face says he had.

Damn it.

With the smirk still firmly plastered on his face, he starts walking down the hall while saying, "Well, all this mentoring is truly hard work. I'm going to shower and hit the sack..." Then he stops as he reaches the door into the next car and looks back at me, "unless you want to join me that is..."

My face instantly heats up as I retaliate with a way too high pitched, "NO THANK YOU!" before swiftly retreating into my room. I can hear him laughing as he exits the train car and I can't help but smile like a fool.

Idiot. I think to myself as I change into my pajamas and lie on my bed.


	6. Chapter 6: Jealousy

The next few days went by fairly quickly. We arrived at the Capitol and got settled into our District apartment. Since arriving, Thomas rarely leaves his room, prompting Mags to take responsibility of bringing every meal to his door for him. On the other hand, Finnick and I had been talking strategy as often as possible. Every night after he got home from his Capitol outings we would sit together in the main room and plan. Not only that, but during training, I was invited by Oliver from District 1 to sit with his pack (made up of Titus from Two, Raven from Two, Shayra from One, Himself and now me) on a nearby bench.

"What's his deal?" Oliver asks gesturing towards Thomas who was walking toward the survival skills training monitor after refusing his invitation.

"I don't know, he won't even talk to me. Guess he thinks he is better off alone" I reply unsure of my answer. We haven't spoken since he stormed off to his room that day on the train. It made me sad because I enjoyed talking with him, he was good at making light of the situation.

"What a dumbass" Shayra laughs sharpening one of her dual swords. Satisfied with her work, she stands up and slashes the air, "I guess we shall just have to remind him of his deadly mistake in the arena won't we" she adds menacingly. I look over at Raven who seems to share my discomfort but just shrugs her shoulders.

Oliver rolls his eyes but Titus enjoys her show and laughs, "Jeez Shayra keep it in your pants until the games start, we still have five days." Shayra ignores him and sits back down to continue sharpening her blade. Noticing my discomfort by her menacing display, Oliver turns shooting me a curious glance, "So Four, what can you do?" This question makes the rest of the pack look up at me in expectation. I can feel my heartbeat in my chest as I reply, "I make traps tying knots and such; I can tie rope fast. I am also pretty good with knives. Back in Four, when catching fish, I used to have to throw the knife and cut the rope to release the hanging trap."

The careers looked at each other judging whether or not any of my skills were worth anything until Oliver spoke up, "Not bad, I heard this arena might by mountainous so knot tying will be pretty useful. You should teach me sometime" he adds smiling at me. This comment made his district partner Shayra irritated as she voiced how unamused she was by my 'skills'. Over the next few days, I taught Oliver and Raven (who joined later out of curiosity) how to tie knots. But his task became increasingly difficult with Shayra finding any moment to 'accidentally drop' one of her swords near me or randomly insult me. One day after Shayra had purposefully tripped me while we were exiting the training room. Sprawled out on the ground in embarrassment, I opened my mouth to say something, anything back to this cruel girl but I am stopped by Raven stands over me and offers her hand. I take it and once I'm upright she whispers, "It's not worth it" and with a parting smile takes off with Titus to their district apartment.

I told Finnick about her behavior and my frustrations that night. "You said this started after Oliver asked you to show him your knitting skills?" he asks leaning forward concentrating on my story. I nod and his brows furrowed as he sits back on the couch and folds his arms across his chest. With a sigh he begins, "I think that psycho blonde likes Oliver and she is jealous that he is giving you more attention..."

This answer shocks me and I look up at Finnick, "What am I supposed to do? Ignore him?" I ask trying to hide my frustration but failing miserably.

"No, you want him as your ally. From what I hear he is the pack leader and so his likeness towards you will help keep you alive. Despite what Shayra says, I doubt she will actively act against Oliver and kill you so maintaining his attention is what you should focus on" He shifts uncomfortably after hearing his own words while dawning an unfamiliar expression on his face.

Is he jea...

My train of thought is cut off when Finnick abruptly sits up from his seat next to me on the couch and glides to turn on the monitor in front of us. "We should get back to discussing the arena," he says quickly and he begins going over the tributes again, playing their videos and highlighting their strengths/weaknesses.

Over the next few days, we continued discussing strategy and I was beginning to feel more confident in my odds of possibly not dying. Somehow Finnick knew that judging by thick thermal arena outfits, it will be very cold weather with the possibility of ice and snow. After having already agreed with my idea to stay with career pack until most of the other tributes have been hunted down, Finnick suggested I wait until I find a safe time to slip away (like during my shift at night watch) before going off on my own. We discussed though it was good I was forming a plan, this only made the games more of a reality and I began to have nightmares.


	7. Chapter 7: Nightmares and Daydreams

One night about three days before the games, I was woken up by a particularly disturbing nightmare featuring the girl from District 1: Shayra. She was watching me sink deeper and deeper underwater. I couldn't breathe and all I see if the other careers just laughing in my face as I drown. What a horrible way to go, death is bad enough but to add humiliation to the equation is an evil the careers are all too known for. I begin to think about my father. What would he think of watching me get pinned down and taunted as a career slices my throat. Or worse, now that I joined the career pack, what will he think of me as I stand back and watch them torture and kill the other tributes? Both options are equally unsettling and yet equally unavoidable. With my mind plagued with these thoughts, I realize I won't be going back to sleep anytime soon. So, I get up and head towards the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. As I walk out, I see Thomas pouring himself a glass of water.

"Can't sleep either huh?" I ask after he became aware of my presence.

"Nah, can't imagine why" he adds sarcastically. We laugh silently trying not to wake Mags or Finnick.

"Hey, I just want to say I'm sorry for not wanting to go off with you, it's not that I don't like you it is just..."

He cuts me off, "It's fine, you just decided what's best for you. I'm not mad or anything."

"Friends?" I ask hopefully.

Smiling he replies "I thought we already were. Goodnight Annie" he says as he disappears back to his room.

The following night I am tormented by yet another nightmare and I wake up covered in sweat. I must have been screaming because my throat was raspy and sore. Confirming my suspicion, I hear a knock at the door.

"Annie? Are you okay?" Its Finnick, he sounds worried.

Realizing I'm only in my strappy nightgown I try to send him away, "Yeah I'm fine thanks." I must not have been very convincing because he asked if he could come in. Grabbing my sheet and draping it around me I reply nervously, "Sure..."

The door clicks open and I see Finnick standing in a white shirt and loose black silk pants. It was odd to see him so dressed down since he was always in revealing or elaborate outfits trying to please the Capitol. Odd but refreshing. He walks over to sit on the edge of my bed. Looking at my attempt to cover myself with my blanket he chuckles silently and looks up at me,

"I heard you and I wanted to make sure you were alright," he says fading his smile into concern.

Looking away from his blue gaze, I mumble back, "I don't know what you're talking about, I'm fine, really." It was embarrassing enough I was hardly dressed, but for him to think I was having nightmares like a child would be too much.

I lift my head back up and glance at him to see if he believe my lie. Instead, I am met with his smile and as he replies, "You know, girls don't usually scream unless I'm in the room with them ;)"

_Idiot_. I think to myself as my face goes red again. I hate how he has this effect on me. _Or do I?_

"Well now that I feel confident I have given you something else to dream about, I'll leave you to it" With a parting wink, he stands up and walks out of my room taking all the warmth with him because as soon as he is gone it feels as though the temperature dropped ten degrees.


	8. Chapter 8: Old Friends & New Flames

I wake up after finally getting some sleep for the first time in days. I wake out of bed and grab the silk grey robe as I head out towards the breakfast table. As I approach the dining area I hear Finnick's voice. Judging by the tone of his voice, it sounds like he is arguing with someone. I lean against the door and listen in before deciding if I want to intervene.

"No! How many times do I have to tell you, she won't be comfortable in that!" I hear Finnick yell slamming something on the table making the plates clatter.

"It's not about her! It's about the sponsors and they will all be attending the parade today!" A familiar female voice adds with frustration.

_Parade? Does she mean the tribute parade? _

"She can get sponsors wearing something more than a fishing line you know!" Finnick snaps, matching her frustration.

"We need an outfit that will make her desirable to the potential sponsors, something that stands out and trust me this design will do just that!" Novena explained.

With that, I decide this is probably a conversation worth joining and open the door. In the dining room, I see Finnick with his hands placed firmly on the table next to a spilled cup of coffee probably a result of all the table slamming I heard earlier. Across the table holding a cup of tea is Novena advertising her signature bizarre style with a bright green plastic dress and matching green hair. And finally sitting calmly at the end of the table is Mags enjoying the show. Mags waves at me promoting Finnick and Novena to turn and see me standing in the door.

"Wonderful!" Novena says as she beckons me to come closer, "sweetie what would you like your outfit to be for the tribute parade? I need to run a few ideas to your stylist before you meet with her today!"

Slumping down into the chair at the end of the table I shrug, "I don't know much about capitol fashion, but I've seen enough designs to know that I don't want anything too revealing" I say looking at Finnick remembering his parade. The image of poor 14-year-old Finnick with nothing but a net draped around his crotch pops into my head, making me chuckle.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do but no promises. Remember to meet me at the stylist area in two hours! Don't be late or I'll have you go out naked!" Novena adds as she leaves the dining room and slams the door.

Looking over at Finnick, I question her threat, "Is that a promise?" I ask. This makes him laugh and Mags and I join. I grab the dish in front of me and reach to make myself a plate of food from the spread out on the table. If anything, the one nice thing about living in the Capitol awaiting imminent death is that you're never hungry. Buffet spreads are provided for every meal. While I eat, Finnick goes over the basics of the tribute parade as Mags prepares a plate of food to bring to Thomas. After I finish eating, we head over to meet my stylist.

Once we arrived, a young woman's voice shouts at us from across the room, "Finnick!". She emerges from the crowd of waiting stylists and walks towards us. She is wearing a tight purple jumpsuit with matching short purple hair and huge silver chandelier earrings.

As she arrives in front of us, a playful smile crossed her lips, "Hi good looking, it's been a while" she teases looking at Finnick.

"You aged horribly" Finnick teases back which elicits a gasp followed by a quick slap from our stylist.

Then she glances over at me and introduces herself, "And you must be Annie! My name is Odette and I was Finnick's stylist during his games and now I'll be yours during the rest of your time here in the Capitol."

Offering her hand, I reach out and we shake hands. As I try to retract my arm, she tightens her grip, "First things first" she pulls my arm towards her and inspects it, "Marv! Bring me some wax" she yells to her assistant. Letting go of my arm she grabs my jaw and pivots my face inspecting it too. "Actually bring the whole pot, we are gonna need it…" she adds while looking back at Finnick, "She'll be fine you can step out now".

Before Finnick can leave I object, "No, please, if you don't mind I'd like him to stay". This causes a smirk to slide across Finnick's face leaving me in a state of confusion intensified with the onset of Odette's laughter.

"Okay, if you're okay with stripping in mixed company, by all means, he can stay. We gotta get you cleaned up after all before you can dawn one of my designs" she teases.

Instantly realizing my mistake I look at the ground to try and hide the red hue spreading across my cheeks, "Nevermind, I'll see you later Finnick." I say promptly tucking my hair behind my ears. I feel him move beside me wrapping his arm around my shoulders, "It'll be fine. I'll be right outside if you need me okay?" he added promisingly.

I look up to meet his blue gaze and am reassured by his confident expression and I realize that his presence made me feel safe. I nod and watch as he walks out of the room. When I turn back to my stylist I see Odette standing with a knowing smile and a hot pot of wax in hand.

"Let's get started shall we?" she beamed.


	9. Chapter 9: Warrior State of Mind

Fire.

My skin is on fire. My once pale skin is now painted red with irritation from the vicious waxing and scrub baths. My bare and unfamiliar hairless body stings as they begin to slide an oddly familiar fabric on. Once I'm in, Odette spins me around so I can face the mirror. I look at the elaborate blue reflection staring back at me and my nerves of being sent out in something ridiculous are replaced with pure astonishment.

It's beautiful.

My dress is a long blue gown with white and silver ripples extending to the floor like waves. I look like the ocean. My curly red hair is left down to shape my blue and silver painted face. Letting my eyes roam Odette's creation, I recognize a familiar white hue underneath the wavy ripples. It's my mom's dress.

"Finnick said you would be more comfortable in something familiar to you. Don't worry we didn't do any permanent damage to it, we just used it as a base under the dress. What do you think?" Odette chimed.

Unable to take my eyes off my dress, I voiced my gratitude, "I love it. Thank you."

Odette nods and walks away leaving me to enjoy my reflection. I run my hands down the dress and pivot around, watching how the tail twists and twirls with my body. I feel like I'm back at Four spinning vanilla tea watching the waves rise and fall with my father. For the first time I actually hope my father watches me on TV during the parade, I bet he would love this dress as much as I do.

My attention is diverted when I hear Odette returning with Finnick. I spin around to face them and I am met with Finnick's astonished stare.

"Wow.," he mumbled as his face dawns the ghost of what could possibly be a blush.

"What do you think?" I inquire, twirling showing off my dress.

"Y...It's beautiful." Finnick stutters, quickly adding, "Truly, amazing job Odette." Odette proud of her work, bows and walks off with her assistants.

Once she is gone, Finnick walks up to me and extends his arm playfully, "Ready to go?" he asks with a mocking gentlemanly charm. I nod and put my arm in his, letting him lead me out of the room towards the chariot mounting area. As we arrive, we see Mags with Thomas who is wearing nothing but tight green scale pants and a coral necklace over his bare chest. Holding in my laughter I look up at Finnick who looks equally amused. He catches my eyes and we exchange a burst of silent laughter, careful to not offend Thomas as we approach them.

"You look great" I hear Thomas say as we arrive in front of the pair.

"You too?" I add unsurely and Thomas smiles, "Yeah I'm not a fan of this outfit either."

Smiling back we walk together with our mentors on our side over to our designated chariot by the front of the lineup. As we approach our chariot, I hear the ceremonial music becoming louder and an unsettling sensation begins to sprout in my stomach. Noticing my nervousness, Finnick stops and turns to face me with both of his hands resting on my shoulders.

"You'll be fine, just remember to be fierce. You're a warrior now, so act like it."

With my mom's wedding dress giving me strength, I nod and Finnick pulls me in for a hug. In shock, I stand there awkwardly at first, but after a few seconds, I give into his warmth and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Thank you" I whisper into his shirt. He has been such a huge source of strength to me throughout my time here. I don't know what I would have done without him. We break our hug and with a parting smile he walks away with Mags to the spectator area to watch the parade with the other victors. I look back at Thomas who is already mounted on the chariot. He extends his hand and taking it, I mount the chariot and we are off. The Horn of Plenty...

( watch?time_continue=4&v=0VCwf4qtyFo&feature=emb_title)

...plays as we ride through the crowds. Hearing the crowds cheer with the music and the drums make me feel strong. I look up at the main screen and I see myself on the monitor. My long red hair blowing in the wind and the silver-blue waves shimmering in the light makes me feel powerful.

_I am a warrior. I hope you can see me, Dad._

Just as quickly as it started, the parade was over and Thomas and I were dismounting from our chariots when I hear Novena yell,

"That was a positively wonderful performance Annie!" she continues and I see Finnick and Mags rushing beside her excited stride towards me.

Finnick is the fastest and he reaches me first, grabbing my waist and lifting me up and spinning me around in the air, "You were amazing! They loved you!" he cheered putting me down but maintaining his grip on my waist. I put my arms on his and match his smile, "Really?" I gleam.

Before he can respond, Novena cut in, "Why of course dear! Everybody who is anybody is talking about your dress. You were absolutely stunning out there, keep this up and you'll have no problem getting sponsors!" she adds clapping her hands together proudly.

Finnick releases his grip and grabs my hand leading me out of the area, "Come on, we have a lot to discuss before your interview tonight." Hands together we rush out of the parade area attracting stares from all the tributes. As we leave, I see a familiar set of eyes watching me and Finnick with envy.

_Oliver..._


End file.
